I think about Paris every day. I have a map of Paris on my wall, pictures of my time there above my bed, posters, mini eiffel towers, books, music, ticket stubs, scrapbooks.. I couldn’t avoid thinking of Paris even if I wanted to. I was only there for 6 weeks, but while I was there I didn’t leave except to visit Reims and Versailles – a day trip each.
Why? I didn’t want to sight-see. I thought I wanted to before I got to Paris, but once I was there I could not leave. So many parts of my soul connected when I was in Paris. Music I’d played on the piano since I was 7 was written there, artists I admired found their muse there, accordionists were a daily encounter, the language I’d fallen in love with was all around me, the food my mom had always cooked was born there, the style, the culture, the vibe – whatever the heck that means. It just felt right. It was the lifestyle I had always wanted to have but that didn’t quite fit inside of Raleigh or Chapel Hill.
My dear friend gave me the book How to Be Parisian Wherever You Are for my birthday and I finally got around to reading it over Christmas. As if I needed another reason to feel completely split in half, this was it. After each page I read, my mind was screaming “yes, yes, YES! Someone who gets me!”
My connection with Paris is rivaled by no other human connection. I fell into a love so deep that the distance makes me grow fonder, and I don’t mind that I can’t be there all the time because I know that, in a way, I am still there. Like so many people before me, I went to Paris and I was changed forever.
Don’t believe me? There is a whole book of testimonials just like mine. You can ask artists, authors, actors, models, designers – anyone with an affinity for art, or even not. We have all had the same experience, and none of us will ever move on.